


Return to the Sea

by anonymous_sibyl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-23
Updated: 2008-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-03 23:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_sibyl/pseuds/anonymous_sibyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're much the same and they never cry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return to the Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outruntheavalanche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outruntheavalanche/gifts).



> Written for [](http://caruso.livejournal.com/profile)[**caruso**](http://caruso.livejournal.com/). Happy Holidays! Contains spoilers for "Heaven and Hell." Thanks, as always, to [](http://alixnoorchis.livejournal.com/profile)[**alixnoorchis**](http://alixnoorchis.livejournal.com/) for looking this over.
> 
> This work is licensed under a [Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/). None of the media or characters written about in my fanfiction belong to me and I make no profit from these works. 

"Miss me?"

"Not really." He scowled at the woman sitting on the edge of his bed. "Aren't you supposed to be rotting in Hell?"

"Pot, kettle, darling," she replied. "Honestly, Dean, you of all people should know better."

He clutched the sheet to his chest and shifted until he was slightly upright. "I'm special," he said with a smirk. "You're just a murderer who made a deal."

She ran her fingernails over the scarred handprint on his arm, scratching nearly hard enough to tear skin. "And you aren't?"

"I made the deal to save a life," he snapped.

"So did I." Her hand stiffened on his arm and she shrugged. "Old news. Not why I'm here."

"I'll bite—"

"—oh, I bet you will—"

"—why are you here?"

"They wanted me to give you a message."

He pointed down. "They?"

"They." She extended her finger and pointed toward the cracked and water-stained ceiling.

"Right." He sneered. "And I should believe you why?"

"I don't know and I don't care. All I know is I'm out of Hell and out of pain for the first time in decades and if I have to attempt a civilized conversation with Dean Winchester in order to stay that way then that is exactly what I am going to do."

"And if I don't listen?"

"I think you'll want to." The air around her flickered and he heard screams and tasted blood. For an instant she was haggard and emaciated, skin flayed and peeling, burn marks tattooing her abdomen and arms. "They suggested I appear like that as a memory aid but I rather thought it lacked class."

"Stop."

"You sound distressed." She caressed his chin and he smelled burning flesh. "Is something upsetting you?"

"Stop!"

She laid her palm on his cheek and it was cool and soft like water flowing over him. "I forgive you, Dean."

He blinked back tears. "What?"

"I forgive you." She pressed both palms flat to his chest and they breathed together. "I don't believe you need my forgiveness but they wanted you to know it was there."

"You can't." He pushed her hands off him and crossed his arms protectively over himself. "After what I did to you, after I put you there, in my place, and did those things to you, you can't. I won't let you."

Bela laughed and it was a softer noise than he'd ever heard her make. "You've no say over this, Dean. I forgive you because I understand."

"How can you?"

"You think they ended your torture in exchange for you torturing others," she said. "You think you traded my soul for yours so the torture would stop."

"Yes," he whispered.

"No." She took his hand in hers and gently pried open his clenched fingers. "The torture never ended. Making you do that to others, making you believe it was your fault and your choice, that was when the real torture began."

His fingers spasmed in hers. "I hurt people."

"I know," she whispered. "And the guilt, it never ends, does it?"

"No."

"It tears at you every minute of every day."

"Yes."

"Then they're still torturing you, even now," she said.

"How can you forgive me?"

Bela let herself be drawn closer to him and reveled in the warmth of his body. "I had a bit of a head start on you, Dean. Remember? Happy birthday to me, welcome to Hell." She reclined and curled into his chest as he gently tugged on her hands. "The things I've done, each time praying it would end, each time knowing it wouldn't."

He brushed her hair from her eyes, lifting it where it stuck to her tears. "You know."

"You were never as special as you thought, Dean. Not even in Hell." She sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes.

"Stop crying," he whispered. "Please."

"I do not cry," she snapped. "I have never cried."

He ran his thumb beneath her eyes, raised it to his mouth then lowered his tongue to taste the salt. He lifted her higher and kissed her face, licking the tears from her skin. The air flickered once again and he froze, terrified to see flames and blood. Instead he heard the ocean, waves crashing on the shore, and smelled salt and sea. "Is that real?"

"As real as anything else we've known," she said.

"But is it real? Are you here?"

She kissed him, lips soft on his. "I'm not in Hell. Isn't that enough?"

He closed his eyes and considered it, measuring the weight on his chest and the smell of her hair, pretending he couldn't hear the rushing of feathers gradually overtaking the sea. He blinked and they were naked, clothes washed away on the tide. He stiffened and he was inside her, shedding his own tears while she whispered her forgiveness in his ears.

She shuddered and he gripped her shoulders to steady her, crossing his hands over her back to match them to the handprints with their fingers spread over her shoulder blades like wings. "Are you real?"

"Oh, yes," she said, shaking above him. "And I'm free."

When she climaxed she collapsed on his chest, turning her head to the side and pressing her lips to his scar. "Be free, Dean. I forgive you."


End file.
